Worrywort

I woke up with a mild headache, so Philippa is convinced I’ll be on a ventilator by Friday. She is busy at work but has still found time to text me three times and call twice ‘just to check you’re okay’.

Bless her.

I can say with absolute certainty that I do not have a temperature, and my senses of taste and smell both remain fully functional. I have tested them to the hilt, believe me, by munching my way through a selection box of luxury biscuits and drinking a litre of ginger beer. All is as it should be, and I do not have a cough.

I am having, I must confess, the occasional little moment where my mind wonders if I am on the cusp of a Covid onslaught, and if I have an undiagnosed underlying condition that might make me more susceptible to complications, but they are only fleeting. I refuse to buy into the panic that might make me anxious, which would make me short of breath, which would make me think I had corona, which would make me panic, which would lead to me contacting the Health Service, which would take someone away from a chance to do something useful for someone who really needs it. So I shall ignore that little voice of concern in my head, and plough on with the Green & Black’s Organic Chocolate Taster Pack.

RC 6-1-20